who was always ready to pity herself, or to be pitied, or to pity anybody else; and who had a surprising natural gift of viewing all subjects in an utterly forlorn and pitiable light, and bringing dreadful precedents to bear upon them, and deriving the greatest consolation from the exercise of that talent.

Withers. Page to Mrs. Skewton, tall, wan, and thin. xxi, xxvi, xxvii, xxx, xxxvii, xl.

THE PERSONAL HISTORY OF DAVID COPPERFIELD

Chapter

OUTLINE

I was born on a Friday night, six months after the death I of my father; and, though it was no fault of mine, the fact that I proved to be a boy was so exasperating to my father's aunt, Betsey Trotwood (who had gone so far as to adopt, and even to name me, upon the assumption of my being a girl), that, when the news was announced to her, she left the house in a fury, and never entered it more. My earliest recollections are of my poor widowed mother, with her pretty hair and youthful shape, II and Peggotty (her first name was Clara, which was also my mother's), our maid-servant, with jet black eyes and red cheeks. Both my mother and I were a little afraid of Peggotty, but she was very good to us, being, in fact, the most affectionate, devoted, and single-hearted woman that ever lived.

III

We were very happy until a shadow fell across us, the shadow of Mr. Murdstone, with his black whiskers, black eyebrows, and black hair. I hated him instinctively from the first, and so did Peggotty; but my mother used to blush and smile when he complimented her, and he began to be often at our house. It was at this time that Peggotty and I went to Yarmouth, to spend a fortnight with her brother, by whom we were warmly greeted. Mr. Peggotty's house it was really not a house, but a superannuated schooner which formerly had sailed the seas, but now was snugly anchored in the sand, high and dry formed the most cosy and fascinating abode imaginable. Mr. Peggotty's family consisted of himself, he being a "bacheldore," to use his own expression, Mrs. Gummidge, the widow of his former partner (since drowned), his nephew, Ham Peggotty, and his niece, "Little Em'ly," a beautiful child, with whom I used to wander on the shore, and with whom I fell in love. The two weeks sped quickly by, and then we were at home again, but alas! it was the old home no longer. Mr. Murdstone was installed there, for he and my mother had been married in the interval. I went up to my room - not the one 1 used to have and threw myself upon the bed weeping and sobbing. My mother followed to comfort me, but very soon

IV

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Mr. Murdstone came in and sent her away. Then, having given me to understand that if I proved obstinate he would beat me as if I were a dog, he took me by the arm and led me down stairs. That was the beginning. Mr. Murdstone's sister, who also was to live with us, arrived the next morning. She greatly resembled her brother, being tall, dark, gloomy, with very heavy eyebrows nearly meeting over her big nose. Miss Murdstone disliked me from the start, and was at no pains to conceal the fact. The Murdstones set about to form my mother's character, and to correct my faults. I had lessons with my mother, but the Murdstones were always in the room, ready to pounce upon me when I made a mistake, or upon my mother when she secretly attempted to give me a hint of the answer; and one day, when I had been unusually stupid (Mr. Murdstone having ostentatiously exhibited a cane during the lessons), he took me up stairs, and, despite my mother's cries and tears, beat me. Half mad with terror and pain, I bit him through the hand. This was the climax, and I was forthwith sent, as being incorrigibly bad, to a boarding-school near London, but the journey was not so bad. On the way to Yarmouth I had a conversation with the carrier, Mr. Barkis. I asked him if we were going no farther together than Yarmouth.

V

"That's about it," said the carrier.

"And there I shall take you to the stage-cutch; and the stage-cutch, that 'll take you to wherever it is."

As this was a great deal for the carrier to say, he being of a phlegmatic temperament, and not at all conversational, —I offered him a cake as a mark of attention, which he ate at one gulp, exactly like an elephant; and which made no more impression on his big face than it would have done on an elephant's.

"Did she make 'em, now?" said Mr. Barkis, always leaning forward in his slouching way, on the footboard of the cart, with an arm on each knee.

"Peggotty, do you mean, sir?"

"Ah!" said Mr. Barkis, "her."

"Yes. She makes all our pastry, and does all our cooking." "Do she, though?" said Mr. Barkis.

He made up his mouth as if to whistle; but he did n't whistle. He sat looking at the horse's ears as if he saw something new there, and sat so for a considerable time. By and by, he said: "No sweethearts, I b'lieve?"

"Sweetmeats, did you say, Mr. Barkis?" For I thought he wanted something else to eat, and had pointedly alluded to that description of refreshment.

"Hearts," said Mr. Barkis, with her?"

-"sweethearts: no person walks

"With Peggotty?"

"Ah!" he said, "her."

"Oh, no! She never had a sweetheart."

"Did n't she, though?" said Mr. Barkis.

Again he made up his mouth to whistle, and again he did n't whistle, but sat looking at the horse's ears.

"So she makes," said Mr. Barkis, after a long interval of reflection, "all the apple-parsties, and does all the cooking; do she?"

I replied that such was the fact.

"Well, I'll tell you what," said Mr. Barkis. "P'raps you might be writin' to her?"

"I shall certainly write to her," I rejoined.

"Ah!" he said, slowly turning his eyes towards me. "Well! If you was writin' to her, p'raps you'd recollect to say that Barkis was willin'; would you?"

"That Barkis was willing," I repeated innocently. "Is that all the message?"

"Ye-es," he said, considering.

"Ye-es: Barkis is willin'."

"But you will be at Blunderstone again to-morrow, Mr. Barkis," I said, faltering a little at the idea of my being far away from it then," and could give your own message so much better." As he repudiated this suggestion, however, with a jerk of his head, and once more confirmed his previous request by saying with profound gravity, "Barkis is willin'; that's the message,” I readily undertook its transmission. While I was waiting for the coach in the hotel at Yarmouth, that very afternoon, I procured a sheet of paper and an inkstand, and wrote a note to Peggotty, which ran thus: " My dear Peggotty, I have come here safe. Barkis is willing. My love to mamma. Yours affectionately. P. S. — He says he particularly wants you to know — Barkis is willing."

When I first entered the school to which I had been sent, I VI was compelled to carry on my back a placard, inscribed "Take care! he bites!" Seeing this the boys could not help pretending that I was a dog, patting and smoothing me lest I should bite, and saying, "Lie down, sir!" and calling me "Towzer." The master, Mr. Creakle, was so cruel, and flogged us so ferociously, that often half the school would be writhing and crying in their seats. The only boy whom he did not beat was Steerforth, the head of the school, a handsome, extremely clever, curly-headed, dashing lad, who took me under his especial wing, though, by the way, he never interceded with Creakle for me or anybody else; and I could not understand the arrogant way in which he treated poor shabby Mr. Mell, the usher.

Another boy that I particularly liked, without venerating him, as I did Steerforth, was Traddles, a chubby, jolly, but very unlucky fellow perpetually being caned for other fellows' faults.

VII

VIII

At last the term was over, and Barkis, the carrier, brought me home for the holidays. After asking many questions about Peggotty, who seemed to have struck his fancy, he gave me the same enigmatic message to her as before, strongly urging me not to forget or miscarry it, "Barkis is willin'." By great good fortune the Murdstones were out when I arrived, and I found my dear mother alone, very pale and anxious-looking, with a new baby at her breast. She was overjoyed to see me, and so, I need not say, was Peggotty. When I gave the carrier's message to Peggotty, she threw her apron over her head, and laughed till the tears rolled down her face. My mother, who seemed to fear that she was going to be married, took her hand and said tenderly, "Don't leave me, Peggotty, stay with me. It will not be for long, perhaps. What should I ever do without you?" "Me leave you, my precious!" cried Peggotty. "Not for all the world." That was the last time that I saw my mother, except in the presence of the Murdstones, who made life so miserable for me and for her (she was always in fear of my incurring Mr. Murdstone's anger), that it was a great relief to us both when, the month being over, I went back to school. Three weeks later she died, and the baby dying the next day, was buried, as she had requested, in her arms.

IX

X

ΧΙ

After her death I went with Peggotty (whom the Murdstones had dismissed the day after the funeral) to Yarmouth, and fell more in love than ever with Little Em'ly, who was getting to be a beautiful young girl. Peggotty married Barkis, the carrier, and I was sent by Mr. Murdstone to London, to earn my living by washing bottles in a wine store which he partly owned. Thus, at the age of ten, I was launched upon the world, and a very hard world I found it. A lodging was provided for me in the house of a bankrupt gentleman, one Wilkins Micawber, whose family consisted of himself, his wife (she came of a very good family, as she informed me the first day that I saw her, and on numerous days thereafter), and their young children. The Micawbers were very kind to me, and I became much attached to them. They had no visitors except creditors, but these came at all hours of the day and night. At such times Mr. Micawber would be transported with grief and mortification, even to the length (as I was once made aware by a scream from his wife) of making motions at himself with a razor; but within half an hour afterward he would polish his shoes with extraordinary pains, and go out humming a tune